


Tantalus

by QuillMind



Series: Clandestine [7]
Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reader-Insert, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: For his crimes against the Gods, Tantalus was kept eternally trapped in a pool of water with a tree of delicious-looking fruit hanging above him.  Every time he bent to drink, the water receded, and every time he reached for the fruit, the branches moved out of his reach.  Jitsui was one such man who appreciated this method of punishment.





	Tantalus

Damn Asians. 

They managed to look so much younger than their actual age, and their generally smaller stature only added to that illusion.  None moreso than this one boy--man, actually--named Jitsui.  Slight and baby-faced with doe eyes, anyone wouldn't doubt it if they were told that he was a mere teenager, an innocent youth who knew nothing of the world of adults. 

You were among those people, and had targeted him, or rather, the character he had been pretending to be, as an asset and your ticket into the inner sanctum of a lucrative black market operation.  Your people wanted to take over the business for themselves, emphasizing that you were to use whatever means necessary to meet that goal.  Jitsui was posing as a meek, obedient kid that worked in the secret distribution centers where alcohol, rations, and other goods were being sorted to be sold through various shady channels.  Just an honest kid that got caught up in a dangerous business trying to make some extra money. 

Posing as a university student, you had approached him in a bar after work, striking up a flirty conversation and buying him drinks.  He had blushed furiously as you spoke to him, in awe of this grown-up paying attention to him, and was reeling from the effects of alcohol after just one glass of whisky.  When you gave a wide, red-lipped smile and leaned over to let him see down the front of your dress, asking if he wanted to go somewhere more private, his eyes had practically bulged out of his head.  It was so adorable that you nearly became lost in your role as the older, experienced woman (though you would discover much later that _he_ was older than _you_ ).  Taking him to bed once was enough to make him putty in your hands, the impressionable boy fully willing to do whatever you asked of him, including sneaking you into the black market operation's headquarters. 

In retrospect, you should have known that it was too good to be true. 

Jitsui had led you to a different location altogether, your student facade rapidly slipping into confused and impatient anger as you demanded to know where you were.  When he responded that you were in the right place, you moved to draw your pistol, only to have it quickly snatched away and be pulled into an arm lock by strength that did not seem possible in that small body of his.  The whole time, Jitsui continued to smile his sweet, boyish smile. 

Now you found yourself in a small office of the abandoned warehouse that Jitsui had brought you to, surrounded by not much more than a cheap desk and cot.  The window was too small and high near the ceiling for you to crawl out of, and anyway, you were gagged and tied up to a chair that was nailed to the floor.  Your legs were kept spread by being tied to the chair legs, but your knee-length skirt kept your covered.  A single ceiling lamp kept the room from being in total darkness. 

The door gently opened, and Jitsui entered.  He no longer wore the shabby shirt and worn trousers he had as the black market errand boy, but a well-tailored suit and tie.  He still looked very much the adorable youth, but walked confidently and moved with a total awareness of his surroundings. 

He cocked his head at you and smiled sweetly.  "I hope your arm doesn't hurt too much."  His voice was a little deeper now, smooth and controlled, not at all shaky like you had initially known him to be.  He stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets. 

"I'll cut to the chase.  Obviously, we know that you're not an overly-curious university student," he said, "and we know that you are, in fact, working for an organization that wants to take over the black market operation that's been going on in these parts."  He spoke with all the casualness of someone making dinner reservations. 

Through the gag, you grunted indignantly and glared at him.  You may have slipped up, but you wanted to make it clear that you were not to be taken lightly. 

Jitsui went on as if he hadn't noticed your hostility.  "We also know that you're not really a spy--just a girl hired as a honeytrap to get information from small fry.  Would you be willing to cooperate and tell us about your employers?  I promise we won't hurt you." 

A likely story, you thought, and you maintained your angry look.  It was true that you were brought on board as nothing more than pretty bait for the weak-willed, but you had been getting results--and in your mind, you were the more impressive by managing to do so without resorting to violence.  And anyway, you had your pride.  Submitting to an enemy--your own mark, no less--was unacceptable.  As fearful as you were of what might come next, you shook your head. 

To your surprise, Jitsui did not show frustration or disapproval.  In fact, his smile seemed to get wider. 

"I'm glad.  This means I get to punish you."

You were suddenly filled with a sense of dread.  And your instincts were right. 

With that innocent smile still on his face, Jitsui crouched down to his knees and began to touch you between your legs through your skirt.  Having expecting to get hit, you flinched at the contact, though this felt far more surprising--and better, if you were being totally honest.  He started with the slightest of pressure, gentle enough for a newborn kitten, flitting over the more sensitive parts of you that were still buried beneath layers of clothing.  This went on for some time, with Jitsui giving no indication that he was eager to move on, keeping his dark, round eyes on you. 

Slowly but surely, you felt desire building up inside of you.  In such a situation, being captured and bound, you should have been terrified for your life--and your dignity--but there was no one else around, and your captor was being anything but rough, giving off a sense of safety in spite of everything. 

It was unclear how much time had passed, but eventually you noticed you were becoming antsy.  The demure touches from Jitsui were having an effect--your skin was getting goosebumps, your nipples were going tight and aching, and it was more of a challenge to stay completely still.  It wasn't just his touch; there was something about the idea of being at someone's mercy that was highly arousing.  The juxtaposition of Jitsui's boyishness to his calculating, precise and confident movements added a fascinating, contradictory quality as well.  That nervous boy that had looked like he might shatter when you first disrobed in front of him was nowhere to be seen here. 

It was not enough, your body urged at you.  However nice Jitsui's caresses were, you were well past the point of being ready to move on to feeling more, _harder_.  The gag barely suppressed your shudder, and you tensed your thighs involuntarily. 

Jitsui peered up into your face, inquisitive like a curious dog.  Then, as if noticing your skirt for the first time, his fingers found the hem and gingerly pulled it back until it was up to your waist.  Your shoulders lowered subtly, anticipating the imminent relief that would come when your underwear would be removed and you could feel his skin.  But instead, his fingers went back to doing the same light dance around your sex, while your panties were still on. 

Incredulity flashed across your eyes as you looked at him, jerking in your chair at the sensation.  But Jitsui ignored you and kept looking at where he was touching. 

"Hmm, I can already tell it's getting wet," he said pleasantly.  "When you first approached me, you gave the impression of being an experienced woman, but you're actually quite sensitive, aren't you?" 

Out of fifty strokes that Jitsui's fingers made, one would actually slide right along the middle and brush against your clit, causing you to jolt each time. 

"You're blushing so red.  You look so adorable and helpless."

Your eyes narrowed and you squirmed visibly, the noises from your throat becoming less and less muffled by the gag, which was wet where it met your mouth--but still not as wet as it was between your legs. 

"But you're quite the bad girl, aren't you--working to gain control of a black market operation, and trying to corrupt a poor young boy in the process."

You bowed your head as you cringed in agony, both good and bad.  Even when the touches progressed to focusing closer around that aching bud of nerves, and Jitsui upped the pressure, he spent so much time keeping the sensation at a plateau that your whole body was turning into a raving mess.  Stimulation was not coming as a steady climb, but an exasperatingly lazy stop-and-start pace.  Yet your own desire was on an unstoppable rise, shredding the threads of your self-control as it craved reciprocation.  You wanted him to take your clothes off, to ease the pain of your nipples by suckling on them, to suck his cock and have him come on your face, to hold onto him as he jammed his cock inside of you and fucked you until you were breathless.  You wanted to see what this Jitsui was like, the real one that was the grown man who clearly knew a thing or two about how to please a woman.  But he had only revealed a fraction of himself, and he still had all of his clothes on--and showed no sign of losing resolve to his own desires. 

It had then occurred to you that he had not yet bothered to take your gag off to offer the chance to speak.  Which meant he didn't care whether you surrendered your secrets or not.  Jitsui was just doing this to make you suffer--in the most delicious way there was. 

By the time your panties were slid off of you, obscenely long, sticky threads stuck to them from your folds.  Jitsui's eyes went back and forth between your oozing pussy and your flushed face, watching for the slightest detail, the most infinitesimal change in your expression and body language that gave away how turned on you were becoming.  The chair was firmly secured to the floor, but you still managed to make it shake and squeak with the degree that you were trembling.  When Jitsui slid his middle finger into you without warning, you made a high-pitched gasp, whimpering as the small digit curled up to rub your G-spot while his thumb tended to your clit.  You closed your eyes and panted against your gag, knowing that this would not take long, and that it was bound to be incredible considering the build-up.  Your limbs pulled against your bonds, ignoring the way the ropes dug into your wrists and ankles, and just as you stiffened, like a coiled snake ready to strike--Jitsui immediately stopped his hand and retreated from your body, leaving an awful yearning in its wake. 

You were paralyzed, looking at him in shock with your breath held.  He shook his head the same way a teacher would to a misbehaving student.  "Come on, now, I did say this was _punishment_ , remember?" 

The steps of your punishment was repeated countless times, making minutes seem like hours, and hours like days.  One, two, or more fingers pushing in and out, scissoring back and forth, twisting and rotating, rubbing and circling your clit; he varied the speed, moves and rhythm, but every single time you came to the edge of an orgasm, Jitsui abruptly and cruelly denied you, providing enough of window for your nerves to calm down before he started all over again.  He displayed total understanding and mastery over what your body loved, and handled you as easily as a puppet.  This was true torture. 

At some point, Jitsui stopped for a break, standing up and wiping his hand with a handkerchief.  He nonchalantly put a few steps between you and him to have a cigarette, taking an even drag before blowing the smoke up at the ceiling.  When you had spent time with him in your respective cover roles, he had claimed to have never even touched a cigarette before, and his body became wracked with violent coughs when he tried a tiny bit of yours.

Your hair was messy and becoming matted from sweat, you sagged in your seat like a passed-out drunk, and tears streaked your hot face.  If anyone were to happen across this scene right now, they would have assumed that you had been tortured to your utmost limits, were it not for the fact that you had zero injuries on you. 

But that was not to say you were all right.  Far from it.  You were on fire, teetering on insanity, only able to think of one thing.  Not a hair on your head was hurt, but you ached all over with excruciating pain. 

"Jitsui..." you hoarsely said. 

Even with the gag on, your tormentor was able to discern what you said.  His eyes flickered up to look at you, but otherwise he kept smoking his cigarette. 

"Jitsui," you repeated, struggling to keep your head from rolling to one side or another and failing.  Your body did not want to commit its remaining strength to anything other than the one thing that would set it free.  "Please..." 

He smiled at you, but you saw it for the sadistic expression that it really was.  "Did you say something?" 

Your sobbing groan was pathetic, but you didn't care anymore.  To hell with pride, to hell with your organization, you just wanted to _come_ , goddamn it. 

Jitsui let his cigarette fall to the floor, and he smothered it with his shoe.  "Do you feel like talking, now?" he asked. 

You had felt like talking quite some time ago, you both knew, but only now were you being given the chance as he removed the gag from your mouth.  The cloth was heavy from having soaked up a lot of your drool.  You flexed your jaw to regain the feeling in it again, and dazedly began to tell everything that you knew.  For the umpteenth time Jitsui's hand coaxed your sex into pleasure, except this time you were free to speak and mewl as you pleased, which made a huge difference.  Eyes rolling back into your head, you shamelessly ground your hips against Jitsui as you spilled information, each sentence rewarded with another push towards ecstasy. 

"Is that everything?" Jitsui asked once you stopped talking and communicated only in moans.  The rapid, sopping sound coming from your pussy was heavenly on its own. 

"Y--yes," you stammered, feeling more ready than you had ever been in your life. 

"Are you sure?"  His hand slowed down, horrifying you.  "You aren't leaving anything out?" 

"No!  I've told you everything, I swear it!" 

Something in those dark, round eyes of his suddenly flashed dangerously.  "You'd better not be lying." 

"I'm not!" you cried, eyes watering, "I'm not lying, so please, please, Jitsui-- _let me come!!_ " 

He smiled again, both benevolent and ruthless.  "Well, since you said 'please'..."  And his hand sped up again, but for the first time did not stop, sending you into a climax that rocketed through you from head to toe, and drew out a desperate scream that went for as long as your already spent voice would allow.  Once the spasms finally ran their course, you went limp, beyond exhausted.  A bomb could be ticking down in front of your eyes, and you still wouldn't find it in you to move. 

You sensed Jitsui cutting you loose from your bonds and laying you down on the cot.  When you felt him sit down beside you, you opened your eyes. 

"Oh, by the way," he said, "everything that you just told me--I already knew." 

Your tired muscles worked up a small frown as you processed his words.  _What...?_

He nodded.  "Long before coming here tonight, we already confirmed the location of your organization's base.  Your people have been taken into custody, and MPs are probably finishing their raid of the place now.  But we destroyed any documentation they had on you before they arrived, so no one else will know about your ties to them.  You'll be safe in working as an asset for us."

There was nothing that you could say or do.  All you managed was to stare.  You were utterly defeated.

Jitsui leaned down until he filled your vision with his angelic smile--a poison-laced confection. 

"It's really good that you didn't lie.  Otherwise, who knows what I might've done to you."

**Author's Note:**

> Jitsui, the most difficult (and meanest) one yet! Fwah, this one took me a long time because I initially had a different story in mind for him, but it just wasn't panning out so in the end i had to change it. I still like it the least of all the stories so far, though, because of all the trouble it took me. :/
> 
> I was also originally going to hang onto this until I had a few other one-shot stories for other fandoms done, then release them all at once as a fic blitz of sorts, but I gave up. Would readers prefer piece by piece, or a massive fic blitz? Please chime in!


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